stood revealed a picture of Jacob and Rebecca at the Well, by Paul
Veronese; doubtless thus concealed with a view to its secret removal
during the first French Revolution. The missing Charles First of
Velasquez was lately exhibited in this country, and the account its
possessor gives of the mode of its discovery and the obstacles which
attended the establishment of its legal ownership in England is a
remarkable illustration both of the tact of the connoisseur and the
mysteries of jurisprudence.

There is scarcely, indeed, an artist or a patron of art, of any
eminence, who has not his own "story of a picture." Like all things
of beauty and of fame, the very desire of possession which a painting
excites, and the interest it awakens, give rise to some costly
sacrifice, or incidental circumstance, which associates the prize with
human fortune and sentiment. I remember an anecdote of this kind told me
by a friend in Western New York.

"Waiting," said he, "in the little front-parlor of a house in the town
of C----, to transact some business with its occupant, I was attracted
by a clean sketch in oil that hung above the fireplace. It might have
escaped notice elsewhere, but traces of real skill in Art were too
uncommon in this region to be disregarded by any lover of her fruits.
The readiness to seize upon any casual source of interest, common
with those who "stand and wait" in a place where they are strangers,
doubtless had something to do with the careful attention I bestowed upon
this production. It was a very modest attempt,--a bit of landscape, with
two horses grazing and a man at work in the foreground. Quiet in tone,
and half-concealed by the shaded casement, it was only by degrees, and
to ward off the _ennui_ of a listless half-hour, that I gradually became
absorbed in its examination. There were some masterly lines, clever